


Eternal

by McRaider



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), hopelessly in love Crowley, they figure it out, together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 06:02:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19762090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McRaider/pseuds/McRaider
Summary: It’s in the moments, between all the craziness, all the things happening, the meals, the wine, the friends, Heaven and Hell, in those moments where it’s just the two of them, that the other takes a moment to appreciate one another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One of my favorite things to do, even after nine years of marriage, is to wake up first thing, before my wife and just take a moment to appreciate how perfect and amazing she is and how utterly grateful I am for her. I know it’s soppy, but I wanted to see a moment like that between our guys. 
> 
> Side note: I did intentionally (somewhat unintentionally), make Crowley's side of the story occur AFTER Aziraphale's. That's how it wrote itself.

**Crowley**

It happens in the quiet stillness of the early house, just before dawn. It’s unusual for the angel to sleep, though it’s a habit he’s taken up more recently. Most of the time Aziraphale will lie with Crowley in the bed while Crowley sleeps, more for the sake of being close than to sleep. But, every once in a while though, the angel falls asleep and Crowley gets an insight into what he feels is the most beautiful creature in the universe.

Crowley should know he’d created some of the prettier parts of the universe, but the angel beside him…there simply wasn’t anything that could compare. Aziraphale had clearly been tired enough to fall asleep half propped up, Crowley’s massive black wing still draped over his lap, a book lying open atop the midnight colored feathers.

Aziraphale had always been beautiful to Crowley, a gentle reminder of Crowley’s days in Heaven, with his exquisite white wings that could sprawl out to what felt like twice Crowley’s normal span. Flecks of gold and silver danced through the feathers in ways that most angels had dancing on their skin. His short nearly white blonde hair that curled in perfect little circles and was so soft to the touch, Crowley reveled in every opportunity he had to touch those locks. Even now, he reached out his hand reverently combing through the short curls, before he brought his long fingers down to Aziraphale’s face.

Where Crowley was all sharp points, and rough edges, long and gangly, Aziraphale was soft, and round. Not in a bad way, but rather as if God herself had molded him from clay and spent a little extra time making sure all the edges would never leave a bruise and were incapable of causing harm to others. Then there was his short nose that scrunched and rose when Aziraphale got excited, or flared slightly when he was frustrated.

Those beautiful kissable lips, oh how Crowley had spent an absurd amount of time dreaming about kissing those lips too. Lips that silently mouthed the words he read, anytime a book sat before him, even if it was a book he’d read multiple times. Lips that smiled wide and excitedly at the sight of Crowley, it was a smile that left something warm in the pit of Crowley’s stomach, like a good home cooked meal, or like Heaven had before his fall.

Aziraphale had been something of a surprise, once Crowley had gotten him out from under all those layers. He wasn’t skinny, but rather had just enough of a pudge to give Crowley something to truly hold on to and enjoy hugging close. His skin tan and unmarred, came with a fine dusting of silver hairs across his upper chest trailing down. In truth, that had been a shock to the demon. He’d expected Aziraphale to be utterly hairless everywhere but his head, hell even his eyebrows had seemed penciled in after a while. But that wasn’t the case. He was huggable, touchable and comfortable.

Crowley pulled his wings in and scooted closer to his partner, they weren’t lovers, or boyfriends, and they’d gone far beyond that by now. Six thousand years together they were ineffable, he supposed. Because that’s what Crowley felt whenever he looked at the beautiful figure to his side. A whole of emotions that no matter how hard he wanted to, he simply couldn’t put into words.

Sometimes it was a bit like a kaleidoscope, every time he turned he saw something else beautiful and colorful and otherwise indescribable. Regularly, the angel took Crowley’s breath away, leaving him feeling hopeless to do whatever it was the angel wanted done. Perhaps it had made him soft over the years, but if blowing away a paintball stain, or saving some ancient books from a bomb blast made him soft, well then Crowley was happy to be soft for his angel.

The demon didn’t enjoy discussing his feelings, didn’t enjoy defining them, but when he stared at his beautiful angel, cuddled up close, his head tucked under the angel’s chin, it made Crowley realize that home was in the angel’s arms. He ran his fingers up and down Aziraphale’s side, taking the time to familiarize himself with the angel he adored as they lay beside one another.

There were days, Crowley wished he could easily tell Aziraphale how he felt, tell the angel how he made Crowley feel like he’d never really left heaven since they’d met. I love you never seemed strong enough, adoration wasn’t deep enough. It was like diving into the ocean and expecting to find the bottom, but instead he just found more and more water. It was enough to drown a human man, he supposed, to feel so overwhelmed by such strong emotions. Crowley understood why people who fell in love eventually found it difficult to explain their relationship to other people, he’d come to understand why people called their significant other ‘my other half’.

That’s what Aziraphale was; he was Crowley’s anchor in the storm, his happiness, and jovialness. He filled Crowley up in a way the demon had thought impossible after his fall. “I do love you, angel. I hope you know that. How deeply you make me feel, how complete,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to the angel’s chest, then shoulder.

He was surprised when he lifted his head to see a pair of beautiful sky blue eyes watching him, filled with a world of emotion that could only be summed up by saying admiration. “I assure, my dear, the feeling is entirely, and completely mutual. I’m just sorry it took me so long to realize it and come to terms with it.” Time didn’t mean much when you had the whole of eternity, but at the same time, that was six millennia they’d wasted, Aziraphale had wasted, being too afraid of the risk.

Crowley scooted up, pressing his lips to Aziraphale’s, it was a small chaste kill, tender and loving, before he pulled back and rested his head against his angel’s. “We’re together now,” he murmured. It was true, Crowley would have gladly waited another six thousand years, as long as it meant being by his angel’s side.

“Go back to sleep my dear, we still have hours before dawn,” Aziraphale whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Crowley’s temple, taking a moment to rub his nose in the short hairs there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Aziraphale**

It wasn’t until 1941, a night in the middle of the west end of London, after a church was destroyed by the London Blitz, that Aziraphale, Principality of the Eastern gate, realized just how deeply the demon Crowley possibly cared for him.

Of course prior to that, Aziraphale knew Crowley cared enough about their Arrangement to make sure the angel remained alive and in one piece. After all, the demon had saved him a few times prior to that point, something for which Aziraphale had returned the favor a time or two. They had enjoyed a glass of wine more than a handful of times by that point.

Aziraphale could sense love, so he knew on some level that Crowley cared enough about him to deem him important enough to keep around. But it wasn’t until the demon, who he hadn’t seen in near eighty years by that time, had showed up, out of the blue after a nasty argument and rescued Aziraphale from half-witted Nazi spies, that it dawned on Aziraphale Crowley might actually reciprocate the feelings Aziraphale had held for the last millennia or so. 

The church had been blown to bits and, Aziraphale had believed, his books with them. His beautiful books, among his most price possessions. And despite having not spoken for seventy-nine years, despite having a rather harsh falling out, Crowley had used a miracle to ensure the books had survived utterly unscathed. As Crowley had handed him the satchel of books, Aziraphale had felt something come alive in his soul for the first time since they’d met. Maybe, just maybe the demon did have the capacity to love.

By the time they got to the bench after the almost end of the world, Aziraphale knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the demon beside him was in love with an angel. One could argue Aziraphale should’ve known before that, and he had on some level, realized it was a possibility, but as he played the words over and over in his mind: _“we could run off together!” “Come with me!” “I lost my best friend”_ it struck the angel that Crowley had been invested in their friendship as long, if not longer, than the angel had.

As they sat on the bus that night, Crowley barely functional and clearly exhausted beyond his years, Aziraphale took a moment to study the demon. He was still covered in soot, dirt and god knows what else. He smelled like burnt chemicals, sulfur and ash, the familiar serpent eyes, hiding behind the sunglasses were devoid of any real emotion.

Aziraphale studied the side of the demon’s face for a long minute, before he’d reached out to the hand that was gripped in a tight fist to hide the tremors that had been present for the last several hours. Aziraphale slowly and carefully, so as not to startle the poor serpent, placed his warm hand on top of Crowley’s fist. The head whipped to the side, looking quizzically at him, then the fist flattened under Aziraphale’s hand.

Aziraphale interlaced his fingers through Crowley’s and held on tight. Maybe they’d die tomorrow, maybe they’d figure everything out, Aziraphale wasn’t really sure and frankly he didn’t care. What he did know, was he wasn’t about to let this beautiful, sweet, kind hearted demon believe one second longer that he wasn’t completely and utterly loved.

“I wanted to go with you,” Aziraphale whispered, his voice sounded tired, he felt tired. “But we spent all this time on this planet, the idea of leaving it behind was…heartbreaking.”

Crowley took a deep shuddering breath that Aziraphale could practically feel in his own chest, before the demon rested his head against the angel’s shoulder. Aziraphale froze, just for a moment, before he let his own cheek rest against the soft red hair of his favorite demon. “Didn’t really care where we were, long as we were together,” Crowley’s voice was husky and filled with an emotion Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure he could describe.

That emotion, whatever it was, gripped tight to Aziraphale’s chest, and for a moment, his eyes burned with unshed tears as he tried to swallow back the clear wave of love and devotion he felt radiating off the demon at his side. “Oh my dear,” Aziraphale choked, he turned his head to the side and pressed a tender kiss to the red hair. He took a moment to take in the very smell that was Crowley, a hint of sulfur, at the moment ash, but under it all leather and Eucalyptus.

“I believe I owe you an apology,” Aziraphale spoke again, his voice wavering slightly as he struggled to find the right words.

“Wha’ for?” the demon asked, but didn’t lift his head from the angel’s shoulder.

The swell of emotion became a bit too much and Aziraphale brought his other hand up around the demon’s shoulders, pulling him close for a long minute, pressing his face harder into the hair to hide his tears. “I could’ve lost you, could still lose you,” he let out a shaky breath. “I can’t let you go thinking I don’t love you.”

The head he’d been cuddling into pulled away instantly wide eyes staring at him through his dark sunglasses, “Wha?”

On some level, Aziraphale knew he should do this somewhere more private, but the angel’s heart and soul were bursting with feelings unlike anything he’d ever felt before and something told Aziraphale if he didn’t say it now, they’d never get to it. He miracle them a little privacy on the bus, ensuring everyone else was too engrossed in their cell phones to notice them, before he reached up, with the hand entwined with Crowley’s and cupped the demon’s cheek. “I love you. Completely, wholly in a way I am utterly incapable of describing properly. And while I hope you feel the same, it dawns on me that I don’t actually care if you share these feelings. Above all else, I can’t lose you without you knowing that you are loved, by no one more than me.”

Crowley shook, before he surged the short distance between them and pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s mouth. Aziraphale instantly replied with desperation, hands groped to pull one another close, desperate to familiar themselves with every inch of one another. But after a few seconds, Crowley pulled back, leaning his forehead against Aziraphale’s. “You love me?”

“So much, have done for at least a millennia now,” Aziraphale offered a warm smile crossing his features as he continued to caress Crowley’s sharp cheekbones. “Please tell me you feel the same?”

Crowley let out a small sob, quiet and almost a laugh, if it weren’t for the two tears that dripped out from under his glasses. “Forever,” he whispered, before he pulled Aziraphale in for a hug. Arms wrapped around one another as tight as could be. “Forever angel.”

Each petting the other’s hair, rubbing one another’s back, they took slow breaths, to help solidify that the other was still present in their arms. “You said I go too fast,” Crowley whispered.

Aziraphale pulled away this time, wiping at his own tears, “I’m sorry, my love. I wasn’t ready. I’m ready now. If you are. If you aren’t, I can wait however long you need.”

“I’m more than ready, angel.”

They returned to sitting side by side on the bus, their hands and arms now interlaced, neither able to let go of the other. If Anathema had been there, she’d have smiled, for their auras finally matched one another, forever, completely and utterly intertwined with one another. For an eternity.


End file.
